On Eagles Wings
I’ve been seeing a lot of eagles lately. On Monday, as we drove west on Highway 44 an eagle swooped low over the highway just as we were nearing big bend. Yesterday we hauled a load of wood up to our partners on the western end of the Cheyenne River Reservation and were treated to views of lots of deer, antelope, eagles, and hawks. I don’t remember the names of all the hawks, and I know that some of our hawks don’t spend the winter around here, but I think that what we saw were Goshawks. Then again, I’m not much of a birder and shouldn’t be turned to as an authority. I do, however, know bald eagle and golden eagle.
The eagle has a special place in the stories of many people. According the lore of our Lakota neighbors, the eagle is the highest flyer of the birds and therefore has a different perspective on the earth. Some indigenous people say that the eagle sees the world from the same perspective as the Creator, who watches over the earth from above. Eagles have been uses as symbols of power, truth and freedom. The spread of the wings demonstrate balance.
For many plains tribes, the eagle is seen as an intermediary between humans and the Great Spirit. The eagle is given the job of carrying prayers between the physical world and the spiritual world. As such they bear not only the prayers of living humans, but also the truth of the Creator. An eagle feather, therefore, is a symbol of great value – the gift of an eagle feather is the highest honor that can be bestowed. The feather carries great responsibility. Holding a feather requires the one holding it to speak the truth. An eagle feather must not be placed in a drawer or cupboard, but always held up in honor.
The observance of eagles as sacred birds is not limited to American Indian culture, however. It is deeply ingrained in the history, traditions and faith of many other people.
The prophet Isaiah spoke of the eagle as the protector of the people, the source of strength, and an agent of God.
Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:28-31
The places where we see eagles are places of special significance. The hills and plains of western South Dakota are places of restoration for me. When I am weary, or grieving, or feeling low, spending time outdoors in the open space seems to revive me, remind me that I am not alone, and restore my connections with God. In another tradition, Celtic Spirituality, the people talk about “Thin Places” or “Thin Spaces.” They are the places where the distance between heaven and earth collapses and we are able to catch glimpses of the divine. Thin spaces can be the product of human engineering, such as the sanctuary of our church. But for me, they are most often outdoor places where I can see plenty of sky and where the closest neighbors are the deer and eagles.
I have come to appreciate that there are also “thin times.” It is not just a function of being in a holy place. There are moments in our lives when we are more open to the presence of the holy and more aware of the transcendent. Baptism is a “thin time.” When parents hand me their most precious little one and I hold that child at the font in the midst of the people, I never fail to feel as if I have been handed an angel. Even when the child is fussy and the behavior not quite angelic, the power of God in the presence of that human person is so evident that I am overcome by the moment. I revert to words I have inherited from our traditions in part because I have no words to describe that experience.
Grief is another “thin time.” When we walk through the sometimes painfully slow process of healing from loss, we come to understand that we never walk alone. Encountering the mortality of another is a reminder of our own mortality. All that we have and all that we are is “ours” for a little time only. We belong to God’s magnificent creation in ways that we can only partially understand. The experience of grief is a reminder of the shortness of our time and of our connections with that which is beyond.
Michael Joncas wrote a hymn based on Isaiah 40. Trent Eddy sang two verses of that hymn last week at the funeral of a friend:
You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,
Who abide in His shadow for life,
Say to the Lord, “My Refuge,
My Rock in Whom I trust,”
And He will raise you up on eagle’s wings,
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
And hold you in the palm of His Hand.
For to you His angels He’s given a command
To guard you in all of your ways,
Upon their hands they will bear you up,
Lest you dash your foot against a stone.
And He will raise you up on eagle’s wings,
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
And hold you in the palm of His Hand.
Different people use different images when they think of their connections with that which is beyond the current experience. Sometimes I feel the presence of the “great cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1). Sometimes I feel the strength of the eagles. Sometimes I simply walk through the land aware that mine are not the first footsteps and neither are they the last.
How fortunate I am to be given the moments of thin spaces and thin times. How fortunate to still be able to have my breath taken away by the sudden appearance of an eagle in the Dakota sky.